


freckles

by loserrobin



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon verse, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Intimacy, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, intimate undertones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:41:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21893080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loserrobin/pseuds/loserrobin
Summary: Concept : Sam has freckles. Jon has a crisis.Setting : Canon Verse.Warning : Fluff. Intimate undertones.Word Count : 409.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Samwell Tarly
Kudos: 31





	freckles

**Author's Note:**

> Join my Jon/Sam propaganda! ; ]

“Is it bad?”

“Just a rash, nothing serious,” Sam assures. His shirt is still off, dabbing something on his rib, the medicinal smell of it lingers in the air.

Jon takes care to shut the door tightly, trying futilely to keep out the bitter cold that seeps through the stone walls and wooden floors. The covers of the bed have been disturbed, Sam sat on top while tending to himself, allowing Jon full view of his friend’s back.

Sam is pale, skin unblemished except for… dots, dozens and dozens of dots that speckle from one shoulder to the next, flecked in an unceremonious pattern down Sam’s spine. He doubts he’d be able to count them all, each time his eyes land on one mark, he’s drawn to the next, jumping from fleck to fleck. The color is light, this pale brown, reminding him of sand he’s only ever seen drawn in paintings. Unconsciously he steps closer until he’s crawling into the middle of the bed, sat behind Sam as he reaches out a finger and pokes a freckle.

Sam startles, then lets out a huff that sounds suspiciously like laughter. “Jon? What are you doing? That… that tickles a little.”

There’s a quiet hum as the finger gently swipes up, then left and curves, connecting freckle to freckle with an invisible line Jon is picturing in his head. The skin beneath his fingertip jumps and ripples as Sam squirms under the attention.

“You have… freckles, everywhere.”

“Is… is that odd?”

And Jon hates the way he asks, in that questioning voice of shame as if Sam had any reason to be anything but proud of the man he is. “No, I… I like them.”

He ducks his head, ears burning while he embarks on a new path, the soft tingle of skin barely meeting skin, pleasant and warm. He draws a wolf, a flower, and a spear before realizing he’d gotten lost in a world of pigmentation and polka-dots.

When Jon looks up, Sam is craning his head to see over his shoulder, gazes meeting. Sam’s cheeks are flushed pink and not from the cold. “What did you make?”

“A wolf,” he says lamely and tries not to be too embarrassed when Sam laughs.

“I’m no wolf,” Sam reminds.

“But you have me,” Jon counters. It’s a declaration of something neither can name or acknowledge. For now Sam throws him a smile and dresses before returning to his room.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked what you read, be sure to check out my other works and profile! You can also find me on twitter and tumblr under the same @.


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